


brucian

by fadinglove



Category: DCU
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, M/M, No Angst, PWP without Porn, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Sick Character, Sickfic, sick bruce wayne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9284153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadinglove/pseuds/fadinglove
Summary: "I'm fine.""Said the stoic and immovable Batman, standing there in all his dark gloryness, as he slowly stumbles to his death.""'Gloryness' is not a word," Bruce replies.





	

**Author's Note:**

> really short, light fic since i'm gearing up for some long angst-ridden ones as these new dc movies start coming out

Bruce looks awful, to say the least.

His cowl is pushed back, and the usually chiseled face looks worn out, hair matted with sweat, flushed cheeks, and crescents of purple smudged under each eye. Even the blue irises seem duller, somehow.

The entire League keeps sneaking glances at him, and Barry is definitely not being as subtle as he thinks he is. His eyes convey, _I didn't know it was possible for Batman to be sick._ Hal looks suspicious, like he knows it's being faked.

Unfortunately, Clark agrees with Barry and is verging on accepting Hal's idea.

Bruce has his elbows on the table, hands clasped together in a seemingly failed steepled position, which his head is resting on. His eyes are closed, and he could be asleep, but Clark knows he's listening. Probably.

When the meeting is over, Superman approaches him on the other side of the room like a nervous cat. Bland politeness has kept him from revealing any emotion throughout the entire meeting, but now he grimaces. "Hey, Bruce, you don't-"

"Save it." Batman grunts in that familiar voice, except this time there's a bit of rasp to it. "I caught something, I have no idea what the hell it is, but it's none of your concern, because I'm actually completely fine."

"You look ready to collapse."

"Agreed," Hal comes in out of nowhere, making Clark jump. Bruce, of course, musters his fiercest glare, but without the cowl, it looks less intense. "You should catch a break, Spooky."

"I'm _fine_."

"Said the stoic and immovable Batman, standing there in all his dark gloryness, as he slowly stumbles to his death."

"'Gloryness' is not a word," Bruce replies.

"Bruce," Clark claps a hand on his shoulder, maybe a little forcefully, "Take a walk with me."

* * *

"You're a goddamn... idiot."

"Shut up, you love me," Clark smiles, feeling giddy, trying not to enjoy the feel of Bruce in his arms and the smell of him and Bruce's arms locked around his neck and his face on his chest-

"...kidnapping..." His groan is muffled against Clark's chest, as they fly towards the Manor in a blur of color. And black.

Superman is definitely not staring at Bruce's hair ruffling ever so slightly in the wind, or his lashes fluttering uncertainly...

And when he lays the Bat down on a bed and kisses him softly, on the forehead, with only a small grunt of protest in response, he knows this is what it feels like to be in love.


End file.
